


Be Mine

by whatstheproblembaby



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Reality Shows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:51:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatstheproblembaby/pseuds/whatstheproblembaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anon wanted a fic based off the show Married At First Sight, so like...fairly self-explanatory concept? Very fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Mine

Kurt was pretty sure he looked like an antsy five-year-old with the way he was fidgeting in his chair, but he couldn’t help himself. He was five minutes away from marrying a complete stranger, after all - fidgeting was only to be expected, right?

 _Oh God, what if I’m marrying a serial killer? What if he wants to wear my skin as a suit?_ Kurt thought hysterically. He bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself. _Calm down, Hummel. You had to go through a background check to get on this show, remember? I’m sure they’d weed out any serial killers who applied._

“Kurt? Your husband awaits,” said Melody, one of the producers, from the doorway. She made a _follow me_ gesture and led Kurt into the fairly nice-looking courthouse they’d rented for the day. Three other couples were taking the plunge along with him and his mystery beau, but the producers decided to hold each wedding separately so the cameras could get plenty of footage of everyone.

A tinny recording of the wedding march played as Kurt entered from the left side of the room, waiting for the door opposite him to open and reveal the man he’d be spending the next month (if not longer) of his life with.

He wasn’t disappointed.

The other man was short, dark, and handsome, filling out his standard black rental tux quite nicely, in Kurt’s opinion. His hair was gelled down like he was a fifties crooner, and his eyes - well. Kurt definitely tripped on thin air when he looked into the other man’s eyes.

“You okay?” the man whispered, reaching out a hand to steady him. Kurt swore he could feel the heat of the man’s hand through the thick sleeve of his jacket.

“Fine, just fine,” Kurt whispered back, hoping he wasn’t flushing too obviously.

The justice of the peace’s brief remarks went in one of Kurt’s ears and out the other once the music cut out, as he was too focused on staying upright and breathing normally, both for the benefit of the cameras and his almost-husband. He finally checked back in when their portion of the vows began.

“Blaine Anderson, do you take Kurt Hummel for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, and in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Blaine said, quiet yet confident.

“Kurt Hummel, do you take Blaine Anderson for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, and in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Kurt said, echoing Blaine’s tone.

“Then by the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss each other.”

Kurt turned toward Blaine, a little uncertain of how to proceed. He didn’t need to worry much, though - Blaine was already leaning up and in to connect their lips, and then Kurt was drowning in sensation. Blaine wasn’t the first man he’d kissed, of course, but he was the first one to make Kurt feel as if fireworks were going off in his belly as they touched.

Once they finally needed to come up for air, they broke the kiss and linked arms instead, Blaine’s over Kurt’s, so they could walk out of the room and get debriefed on the next part of their adventure.

“Great kiss, boys, that’ll make some amazing television,” another producer, Mark, told them once they were out. “We just want you to do a quick confessional over there and then we’ll get you to the airport for your honeymoon to Paris!”

Kurt shrieked a little at that, noting happily that Blaine was doing the same next to him.

“Kurt, you first,” Mark said, ushering him over to the makeshift booth they’d set up. “Just tell us how you’re feeling now that you’ve met Blaine, and don’t worry - he can’t hear you, so be honest.”

“Ready?” Kurt asked, stepping inside the booth. At the camerawoman’s nod, he continued, “How I’m feeling now that I’ve seen Blaine? God, I don’t know if I even have words. He’s so handsome, but I feel like he’s not just a pretty face, you know? And that _kiss_. Suddenly I’m both really excited _and_ really nervous for the next month - I don’t want to run him off, you know? Fingers crossed that this works out!”

He waited for a few minutes as Blaine went through the same process, then took his new husband’s hand in his as they headed out the doors and to the airport, feeling oddly tactile around him. Blaine appeared to be much the same way, though, as he instantly twined their fingers once he realized what Kurt was doing.

The warmth of Blaine’s palm against his felt like a good omen for the next month, much as Kurt was hoping to stay rational about the whole shebang.

____________________________

The excitement Kurt was feeling wore off once they finally arrived at their nice (if a bit small) Parisian hotel and he remembered they’d be sharing a bed that night.

Because they were on their honeymoon.

An event during which people generally had sex.

“Uh,” he squeaked, feeling himself blush crimson as he dropped his bag by the dresser.

“So,” Blaine replied, looking just as awkward. “Um.”

“ _Idonwannahavesexifyoudon’t_.”

“Wait, did you just say-” Kurt said.

“Only if you said the same thing,” Blaine said, plopping onto the bed with a nearly visible aura of relief. “I mean, not that you’re not attractive or anything-”

“-Back at you-”

“-But I just - am not really into having sex with a total stranger, even if we are technically husbands?” Blaine uptalked. “Nothing personal, I swear!”

“No, no, Blaine, I get it,” Kurt said, sitting next to Blaine and placing a tentative hand on his bent knee. “I’ve never been into random hookups either, much to my friends’ chagrin - they want to be able to bring their own encounters home without fear of walking in on me having a _Toddlers and Tiaras_ marathon.”

“Ooooh, do you think they get that show here?” Blaine asked, making Kurt snort. “Sorry, off-topic. But now I know you have great taste in media, at least. One question down, one million to go.”

“Wanna spend tonight playing Twenty Questions?” Kurt said, scooting up to sit against the pillows. “They’re gonna kill us in our confessionals tomorrow, but whatever. We can always make up a good story if need be.”

“Isn’t that what happens on all reality shows?” Blaine teased, coming up next to Kurt. “I mean, people can’t naturally flip that many tables in anger, right?”

“Don’t you dare disparage the raw emotion shown on the Housewives!” Kurt said, gasping in mock-outrage. “I’ll quit this show right here and now before I remain married to a heretic.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said. He picked up Kurt’s hand, and after a quick evaluating look, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “No mocking the Real Housewives, got it. What else should I know about you, Kurt Hummel?”

Kurt had to search for words for a minute, stunned at Blaine’s old-school charm. “That’s two facts about me and none about you, Blaine Anderson. I don’t think I’m the one who needs to spill more just yet.”

“Oh no, you’re putting me on the spot!” Blaine said. He bit his lip as he concentrated, and Kurt couldn’t help but wonder how Blaine would respond if _he_ tried that while kissing. “Um. Not fun, but just so you know - I’m really allergic to bee stings, so if I ever run away frantically while we’re outside, that’s why.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. One more and then I’ll go again, come on.”

“I constantly have to keep myself from having dessert before dinner, even though I’m almost thirty and should know better?”

“Blaine, I get the feeling this is going to be the start of a _beautiful_ relationship.”

____________________________

Kurt woke up disoriented and wondering why his pillow suddenly smelled like raspberries.

“Morning,” Blaine’s rumbly voice greeted him. “Coffee?”

“Yes please,” Kurt said, rolling away from Blaine’s (wonderfully warm and snug) collarbone and rubbing his eyes before pushing himself upright. “Sorry if I drooled, by the way.”

“You didn’t,” Blaine said, sitting up and handing him a mug from the nightstand beside their bed. “And I’m sorry if this sounds a little odd, but - that was a _really good_ night’s sleep, wasn’t it?”

“I was thinking the same,” Kurt said, taking a sip. “I haven’t slept that well in weeks, maybe even months.”

“I was so afraid that sharing a bed would be the hardest part of this experience,” Blaine said, swigging his own drink. “It’s just so intimate.”

“Guess that round of Twenty Questions was good for more than just learning how much of a sweet tooth you have,” Kurt said, smiling over at Blaine.

Blaine’s return smile almost made him slop coffee on the bedsheets.

____________________________

Twenty-nine days later, the honeymoon phase was officially over. The first three weeks had been wonderful, a blur of exploring and kissing and setting up a life together that seemed like it was going to work out pretty well. They met each other’s friends and family, they worked out routines for mornings and mealtimes - they even talked about adopting a cat together.

Then week four began and Blaine got clingy, making Kurt go cold.

“For the love of God, Blaine, I’m not going to disappear if you’re gone for five minutes to buy coffee across the pavilion!” Kurt snapped as Blaine tried to help him out of his jacket. “I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine getting my coat off on my own!”

“I’m sorry that I wanted to be polite, Kurt, God!” Blaine fired back, running a hand over his hair exasperatedly. “At least you’re only saddled with me for one more day.”

He stalked off, leaving Kurt to puzzle over the terrified feeling in his gut that came with Blaine’s words.

 _Only one more day? I mean, I want a little break from him, but...not for forever. He’s my husband,_ my husband, _and....and…_

“I love him,” Kurt whispered, barely audible even to himself. “Blaine’s my husband, and I love him. I don’t want to take the divorce.”

A shriek from over by the coffee cart broke Kurt out of his reverie.

“Oh my God, this man just started choking. Someone help!” a girl yelled, and Kurt came running.

He nearly passed out when the man in distress turned out to be Blaine.

“Blaine? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Kurt said, instantly dropping to the ground by him and panicking.

“Bee. Got me - in the arm,” Blaine wheezed, turning redder and redder by the second. “EpiPen - in bag-”

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Kurt said, nearly tearing the strap off Blaine’s messenger bag in his haste to get it off Blaine’s shoulder and open. “Where is it, where - _there!_ ”

He uncapped it with shaky hands and jabbed it into Blaine’s thigh as hard as he could, vaguely aware of the girl who’d yelled on the phone with what he assumed was 911 above them. Thirty seconds later, he pulled it back out, dropping it on the ground nearby thoughtlessly as he anxiously watched Blaine’s reaction.

It took a moment, but Blaine’s breathing regulated and his color faded, and Kurt felt himself sag with relief.

“Thank you,” Blaine said, now able to talk properly again. “I’m glad you at least don’t want me dead after this month.”

“Blaine, I _love_ you, of course I don’t want you dead!” Kurt said vehemently, feeling tears prick in his eyes at the thought of a world without Blaine. When his brain registered his words, he instantly blushed and clapped a hand over his mouth.

“You love me?“ Blaine repeated.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same - _mmph!_ ” Kurt couldn’t finish his sentence when Blaine leaned up and kissed him hard. “Blaine! You just almost died, save your breath!”

“The man I love loves me back, I think that calls for a kiss,” Blaine said, eyes sparkling.

“You - me -?” Kurt breathed, stunned.

“Why do you think I got so clingy this week?” Blaine asked. “I was afraid you’d want out, so I was trying to maximize my time with you. And then you got angry, which made me even _more_ affectionate in the hopes of winning you over.”

“I got angry because you were practically following me into the bathroom out of nowhere, Blaine,” Kurt explained. “You know I like a little alone time to recharge, though I admit I could’ve handled it better. I can work on that, I’m sorry.”

“But I _did_ go overboard this week,” Blaine said, blushing a little. “I’m sorry too.”

“You can make up for it by staying married to me,” Kurt said with a wink. “After all, isn’t that what people in love do?”

“I think people usually fall in love before getting hitched, but I’m not complaining.”

“You know I hate following the crowd,” Kurt said before leaning down to kiss Blaine again, only breaking apart when the ambulance finally arrived.

Blaine beckoned Kurt closer once they were loaded in and on their way to the ER, taking off his mask just long enough to say, “I take back what I said about the Housewives. Clearly not all drama needs to be staged.”

“I would’ve been okay with you just _telling_ me you loved me, though.”

“But how would that engage the fans?”

“You think we’re going to have fans?”

“We’d better, after a moment like this.”

Sure enough, Kurt and Blaine’s Twitter accounts blew up the second their season aired. Kurt had to kiss the smug look off Blaine’s face to keep him from bragging.


End file.
